Not okay
by Mestizaa
Summary: Post Fannysmackin'. Pre Post Mortem. All I'm going to say.
1. I

**Not Okay**

**A/N: So in honour of Fannysmackin', here is a fic. I wrote it in an hour. Please R&R. Even if it sucks.**

**Thank you soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much Lexxia for beta-ing.**

Greg stood frozen, watching the scene play out on the other side of the glass. A mother mourning her child. It was so typical. He'd seen this scene so many times before, but this time, it was different.

This time, it was his doing.

He heard knocking on his hospital room door, but chose to ignore it.

"Hey Greg, brought you some burritos," Sara's voice rang through his ears. "Figured you might want something other than hospital food. Nick and Warrick are coming later."

Greg didn't acknowledge her. He was still staring at the lifeless body in the other room. He seemed to be unable to peel his eyes away.

Sara walked over, standing next to him. "What?"

Not a word.

She turned Greg around, forcing him to face her, the pain in his eyes speaking volumes.

"Greg, are you alright?" she asked quietly.

"He's dead."

He knew what she would try to say that wasn't his fault; that he did what he had to do.

But it _was_ his fault. It was his fault Demetrius's mother was mourning her son. It was his fault she was sobbing so painfully.

It was him who was behind the wheel.

It was him who pressed the gas pedal.

It was him who struck the kid.

Greg Sanders killed Demetrius James; he had taken somebody's life.

Of course he wasn't alright.

**A/N2: You made it through! YAY! Now for bonus points, press that little purple button! And I know... Sara's just sorta there...**


	2. II

**A/N: You wanted it. You got it. Now I will have to write chapter 3. yay. lol.**

**Thanks Lexxia for (guess what?) the beta. And the last bit after the beeper. She wrote it. Not me. And Allie09 for advice. And I don't own CSI! Now please R&R and I will shut up.**

A coroner's inquest. Why did they need a coroner's inquest?

Greg knew why. He wasn't stupid. He'd been doing this long enough to know. He should have anticipated it instead of letting his jaw drop when Brass told him.

But it was simple enough to not need an inquest.

"A bunch of kids decided to go fannysmackin'. A tourist was getting beat up. You decided to help. Then while trying to help, you ran Demetrius James over," he cringed at the thought. It still hasn't sunk in. And it had been how long exactly since he got out of the hospital? Since Demetrius passed? Since Sara brought him burritos? A week maybe?

At least he got to go out into the field that night. No one except Catherine bothered to ask how he was doing. He was some what glad for it. He didn't want to think about what he did. Or rather, who he killed.

But he missed Sara. He hadn't seen her. He hadn't had a proper conversation with her after the burritos. She had come and visited him. But only to say "hi" and then "bye." Never anything more.

And that hurt.

Especially after she'd seen what she had seen.

She saw how he broke upon realization. She saw the mourning going on in the other room.

But she didn't react.

She just stood there.

He didn't even get the reaction he was waiting for.

No hug.

No "It's going to be okay."

Just her, frozen in her place with burritos she had brought for him.

She didn't utter a single word.

All he heard was faint sobs in the background.

Then a beeper.

When he had turned around, she was gone. He never did get a chance to ask where she had run off to, and it bothered him.

Maybe now that he was back at work he could ask her.

Find out why she was being so distant.

To maybe rebuild the best friendship he'd ever had. Because, for all he knew, she didn't even want to be near him anymore.

He had to find out.

And he was going to.


	3. III

**A/N: I have a valid excuse this time. If anyone wants to hear it, ask. This chapter is short and un-betaed. **

**III**

Sara didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to say. Usually when this happened, she wasn't the one who had to give comfort. She wasn't the one who had to help deal with the pain. She was a CSI. She dealt with other people's pain every single day. But she was never the one who they ran to. She was always the CSI or bystander. Or that one time when she was victim's family. She was never on the killer's side.

This time she was. And she felt useless.

When Grissom called her, she used it as a means of escape. She didn't know how to help Greg cope. She didn't even know how to do it on her own. For all she knew, she'd make it worse.

But after that, she felt guilty. She froze up and left him behind when he needed her most.

Some friend she was.

Now she couldn't look at Greg. Now she couldn't think of him. When she did, this pang of remorse would hit her and she wouldn't be able to do anything.

No work, no books, no movies or night outs. She couldn't do anything but feel shame for not being there.

Like now when she sat in the break room and stared at nothing. Random thoughts swirled through her head. Greg wearing that purple turban of his and making her laugh. Greg offering to listen. Greg asking her how her 'vacation' was. Greg offering to talk.

He had done all those things for her. And now she did nothing. He was always there offering to talk or listen. But she always blew him off. Now, when he needed her, she sat there moping about how useless she was as a friend.

And that just made Sara feel even worse.

"Have you seen Sara anywhere?" she heard him ask in the hall. Sara jumped up and departed from the break room quickly. But not quickly enough. Greg had seen her.

"Hey Sara!" he called after her. But she didn't stop like she should have. She just fled. He would have followed her had Hodges not appeared out of nowhere and distracted him with results. Sara took this chance and disappeared into the locker room.

When she realized what she had done, she slammed her fists into her locker. Hard. It was a miracle no one had heard and it was a miracle that she didn't break her fists on impact.

Tears stung in her eyes. Her head fell to her hands.

She was feeling just peachy.

**A/N2: Next chapter will be up faster... unless I get no reviews... lol just kidding**


	4. IV

**A/N: My first complete chapter story. Sob Anywho, I went into CSI withdrawl the other day, so don't expect loads of CSI fanfics from me. Thanks Lexxia for the beta.**

**IV**

Any other day Greg would have tried shaking Hodges off. But he today couldn't. That person, if he could be called that, had valuable information concerning his case. And if he didn't listen now, he would probably never hear the end of it.

Rumours would spread about him and Sara. Hodges would never bother to give Greg his results in the future. And then where would he be?

Ecklie had never been fond of Sara. He would jump at any reason to fire her and Greg was not about to let that happen. Pissy Sara was better than no Sara at all.

Greg sighed and half-listened to Hodges go on about paint. He would have to wait until later to get the answers he wanted from her.

Unfortunately, the paint led to a lead, which led to Greg calling Brass, which led to him making an arrest, which led him to interrogation, which led to Greg having to go back to look for more evidence, which led to a double. And that of course made him exhausted and miss Sara, who had already left by the time he got back to the lab.

_Tomorrow then _he figured.

And tomorrow came.

Grissom paired them up together on the same case for the first time in a long time. Sure, the others were also on it, but Greg and Sara were going to have to work together.

Greg couldn't help but wonder if that was Grissom's intention.

Sara hardly spoke to him for at least the first few hours. What was there to say?

"I avoided you because I wasn't able to deal with The Incident myself?"

Besides, different ends of the scene needed processing. They couldn't possibly talk to each other.

Or so she tried to convince herself of.

But it wasn't working.

And it was a completely useless tactic to keep avoiding him like this. Besides, when they did speak (in the layout room most likely), it was going to be five million times as awkward.

But she didn't want to speak with him now.

Anyways, she hadn't actually done anything yet at the scene.

XxXxXxXxX

Crime scenes come and go. Layout rooms come and go. Court comes and then it goes.

It was a cycle. And Sara didn't want to follow it.

She stood at the layout room debating on whether or not she should come in.

Marilyn Manson played softly in the background.

Sara took a step in. Greg looked up. Was that a hint of a smile on her face?

"What ever happened to your air guitar, Greggo?"

She walked over to the stereo and put the volume up a few notches. Greg grinned and got up to begin. But Sara's look stopped him. It wasn't one of annoyance. It wasn't one of anger. It was one of disappointment and guilt.

He didn't bother to ask if she was okay because he already knew the answer.

He just pulled her into a hug and held her close to him.

Sara buried her head in his shoulder and whispered "I'm so sorry."

Maybe they were going to be okay in the end.

**A/N#2: And here it ends. Please review!**


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